


Wedding Pictures

by kate_the_reader



Series: Going Home [8]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Eames thinks about their wedding day, it is in a series of pictures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, chasingriver has been amazingly helpful, as ever.

When Eames thinks about their wedding day, it is in a series of pictures. 

_Arthur waking up, tousled, lazy-eyed and turning the full power of his dimples on Eames._

They are alone in the house, both sets of parents having gone to a hotel, "to give you two space". Eames isn't sure if they thought he and Arthur would sleep apart. Of course they hadn't. Neither of them really sleeps without the other, and they hadn't even considered it. 

The sun paints the corner of their room golden, laying a stripe across the bottom of the bed. They have woken early. "Like kids at Christmas," Eames whispers to Arthur, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

"I've got gifts for you," Arthur whispers back, unwilling to break the mood. 

"Darling, everything is a gift," says Eames. "You have given me this whole day. This whole life." 

"Oh Eames," says Arthur. "Oh Eames." 

He props himself on his left hand and looms over Eames. Eames loves it when Arthur does this, he adores Arthur in this mood. Arthur settles his weight on Eames and kisses him thoroughly. 

Finally, he pulls back and says, “Eames, you are my gift. I’ll never stop being glad that you took a chance on me even when I didn’t understand you. I'm so glad you came home with me after the Fischer job.” 

Eames pulls him back down, a hand on the back of his neck, pushing up into Arthur's hair. 

“Yes, home,” he says. “Home, with you. When you finally got what I'd been saying all that time. Why were you so obtuse, darling?” 

He flips them then and Arthur laughs up at him. “I was dumb, wasn’t I?” he says. “Thank god you’re so damn persistent!” 

It's a good thing they've woken early, and the wedding is late in the day, because there's no getting up right now. 

 

 _Naked Arthur crossing the room to their bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Eames. The long line of him from neck to ankle._

Eames leans against the pillows and wonders what he did to get so lucky. To have stumbled into dreamshare because he was good at creating images, to have met Cobb, who brought him Arthur. Who had been all hard edges. All pressed shirts and sharp suits and sarcasm. And is now, here, all warm skin and sinuous curves. All teasing glances and tumbling hair. 

"You coming, Mr Eames?" says Arthur. "Or are you just going to lounge there and admire my ass all day?" 

"Darling, you know I would, any other day," says Eames, "but I suppose you have things for me to do, today." 

"There'll be people here really soon," says Arthur. "I need to be dressed. We need to be dressed.” 

 

 _Arthur in jeans and a T-shirt, talking to William the caterer and catching Eames’s eye to grin delightedly at him for no apparent reason._

Eames grins back. They’ve been planning this day for so long. And now it’s not only here, but happening just as they have wanted it. They’ll be surrounded by friends and family, in their home full of beautiful things they have chosen, art they have made, flowers they have grown. 

At Christmas, when Eames made his promise to Arthur, when he asked the question (on that day of horrible fears and amazing relief), when he asked Arthur to plan this day, he knew, all those times, that however it happened, it would be perfect. If they’d had to go to city hall at lunchtime and stand before an indifferent official, it would have been a different kind of perfect. In a hospital (Eames has heard of that happening, and god knows, it could happen to them), it would have been perfect. Wherever they did it, it would have been perfect because it would have been Arthur saying “I do” and Eames saying “Forever”. 

Eames is so glad it’s this kind of perfect, though. The Arthur-planned, all details in a Moleskine, family and friends and kids and home kind of perfect. 

“Put the table here,” Arthur is saying to William the caterer, who has brought a crew of eager cooking school kids to do the setup. “The drinks table can be over there. Eames, where do you want to put flowers?” 

Eames has to slightly shake himself. The flowers he cut from the garden last evening have been standing in buckets in his cool studio. 

“I'm going to put a huge bunch on the drinks table,” he says, “and others on the dinner table, of course. And all through the house. I have enough to go everywhere, darling,” he says. “I’ll go and do that, shall I?” 

In the months since he planned this bouquet to surround Arthur, he has been busy in the garden, and it is overflowing with fragrant blooms. They’re not fancy, but they are lovely in an understated way. 

He heads to the studio and begins. And there, standing on the floor of the closet, facing the wall, is the picture he plans to give Arthur later. Much later. Arthur is less superstitious than Eames, in some ways, but it was enough of a risk painting it. He doesn't want Arthur to feel fate looming. 

 

 _Arthur in the shower, his head tipped back against Eames’s chest, his hands clutching Eames’s wrists. Their rings gleaming on their right hands._

“We have to take these off for a while now,” says Arthur. 

“So we can put them back on our other hands,” says Eames. They haven't been able to resist wearing their rings, since Arthur dug them out of his pocket and showed them to Eames and asked his own question. 

Arthur turns around and runs his hands over Eames’s chest, down his arms, lingering on his ink, as he always does. His hand comes back to Eames’s right wrist. He turns it over and traces the infinity symbol there. “Always,” he whispers into Eames’s mouth. 

Eames brings his hand up to Arthur’s jaw. “Forever,” he breathes, and kisses Arthur as the water falls and runs down their backs. 

 

 _Arthur, half-dressed in crisp white shirt and the black trousers of his suit, standing by the open closet with a tie in his hand._

“Eames,” says Arthur, “come here.” His voice is very soft. “I have something for you.” 

Eames steps over. The tie in Arthur's hand is an iridescent blue-green-gray. 

“How does it go?” says Arthur, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue? I don’t think you’re wearing new boxers, but your suit is new. This is blue,” he says, turning Eames’s collar up and putting the tie around his neck. He pauses and leans in to kiss Eames before tying a perfect knot. “And this is borrowed,” he says, securing the tie with a silver tie clip that Eames has seen among his things, but not seen him wear. “It was my Grandpa’s. I didn't know him. He died long before I was born.” 

Eames swallows the lump in his throat. “Oh darling,” he says. He has to bite his lip it's trembling so much. “Your Grandpa’s? Thank you.” He runs his hand down the tie, rubs his thumb across the silver bar. “Thank you.” 

Arthur turns Eames so he can look at himself in the mirror. “I knew it!” he says. “That tie is perfect. I knew it as soon as I saw it at Hermes.” 

“In Paris?” says Eames. “We haven't been in Paris for months. Not since last year.” 

“Well,” says Arthur, grinning at him, “I think ahead. I knew it would look amazing on you.” 

“ _You_ are amazing,” says Eames. “I'm sure your tie is equally gorgeous. May I tie it, love?” 

Arthur turns back to the closet and takes out a deep red tie with a pattern of tiny white dots. “Yes, you may, Mr Eames,” he says. 

 

 _Dom walking up their steps, Phillipa and James running ahead. Cobb wearing a huge grin and a grey suit and Philippa a sparkly princess dress. James in a Batman T-shirt._

"Sorry about the kids," says Dom, "I couldn't persuade them to wear anything else!" 

"They're perfect," says Eames, “Aren't the kids perfect, love?" 

"Yes," says Arthur. 

He takes them inside, Phillipa chattering excitedly about her dress and her new puppy. 

"Eames," says Cobb, "I've got the official stuff here. There're only a few things I have to say to make it legal. You and Arthur have your vows, I guess?" He looks a little wistful and Eames knows he's remembering his own wedding, the promises of forever he and Mal made to each other. How they'd tried to pack forever into a dream and what that had done to them. 

Eames knows he and Arthur are doing what's right for them, but he also knows dreamsharers are often cautious of commitment, and that what happened to the Cobbs is a lesson to them all. Eames has his casino chip in his pocket. He knows what is real, even if he can't quite believe this day is really happening. 

Arthur and the children come back out onto the porch. "They're all set," he says. "Come down to the terrace, Dom," he says, "I want to show you where to stand." 

William's crew have set up chairs under the drooping pepper tree on the bottom level of the yard. The tree's resinous scent hangs in the late afternoon warmth. 

 

 _The families all spilling out of a rented minivan. George shaking his head over the traffic. Skippy, Tabitha and Mary deep in conversation. Jim-Bob carrying Ashlee, who is squirming to get down._

"Eames," says Mary, "you look lovely! Doesn't he look lovely, Skippy? I'm sure Arthur must have picked out that gorgeous suit. Did he, love?" 

Eames hugs all the parents, and the girls, shakes hands with Jim-Bob and Billy, and takes Ashlee from her father. 

"Hello, sweetheart," he says. She giggles delightedly at him. 

"Where's Artie?" says Skippy, “In the kitchen?" She and Tabitha go through the house with Mary and George. Honey takes Ashlee back from Eames. "So she won't drool on you," she says. 

Jim-Bob and Billy stand around a little awkwardly in the living room, eyeing the television. 

"Eames!" says Candy, "There's a spa at the hotel, Honey and I had our nails done. It was such fun!" 

Eames admires the hand she shows him. They really must have her to stay soon. 

"Do you want to watch ESPN while you wait?" Eames says to Jim-Bob. "I've got a few things that still need doing." 

"You've got ESPN?" says Jim-Bob, "That'd be great." He and Billy flop down on the couch and are soon immersed in a baseball game from somewhere. 

"They'll be okay," says Honey, but she has a slightly tense look. 

"Of course they will," says Arthur, coming into the room and kissing the girls. "Hi, guys," he says to Jim-Bob and Billy. 

"Ooh, Artie," says Candy, "You look like a film star!” 

Arthur glances at Eames and smiles, full dimples. Eames can't help agreeing with Candy. He reaches for Arthur's hand. "Everything okay, darling?" he says. 

"Absolutely!" says Arthur, "Ariadne and Yusuf will be here any minute and then we can start." 

Eames thinks he may be imagining the look he saw pass from Jim-Bob to Billy at Yusuf's name. He hopes so. 

 

 _Ariadne and Yusuf catching each other's eyes as they stand with Cobb under the pepper tree._

Eames and Arthur have walked down the path from the house together. The children stepping carefully ahead of them, Phillipa holding Ashlee's hand and clutching the bouquet Eames made her. James trying to scowl, but failing. Dropping the shiny bullet casings Eames slipped him. Arthur glances at Eames, eyebrow raised, eyes dancing. 

The path is narrow and steep, and they can't walk side by side. Arthur goes ahead, turning to wait for Eames at the edge of the terrace. 

Eames thinks back to the last time Yusuf and Ariadne and Cobb were all together. On the Fischer job, that brought him and Arthur together at last. 

Their families turn and smile, Skippy already looking a little tearful, Mary and George holding hands. 

Eames takes Arthur's hand and they step under the tree canopy. Everyone else recedes. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Arthur's eyes. His mouth. His hands._

Eames's heart is thumping uncomfortably as he stands opposite Arthur and takes his hands. He feels Arthur trembling slightly, and runs his thumbs across the inside of Arthur's wrists, trying to calm them both. He's been in dangerous situations with Arthur many times, but nothing has ever felt quite like this. The stakes feel very high. 

"Arthur, Eames," says Dom, "The law requires me to ask you if you are certain you want to be married?" 

"Yes!" says Eames. "Yes, yes!" says Arthur, "of course we do!" 

Everyone laughs. 

"Great," says Dom, "Now you can say your own vows. Who's going first? Eames? Arthur? Alphabetical order?" 

Eames looks at Arthur and nods. Arthur frowns slightly and squares his shoulders. 

"Eames, you understood what I wanted before I did myself. You waited until we couldn't stand it any longer. You saw me and made me see myself. You taught me not to be afraid to dream bigger.” 

He stops and draws a shaky breath. “And then, you found my family, and let me see I wanted that after all, that I wanted to be a family too.” 

He squeezes Eames’s hands almost painfully hard and smiles. “You promised me infinity! 

“Eames, whatever happens to us, I want to be with you. Always. 

“I want to have your back and for you to have my back. 

“I want us always to come home to each other.” 

Arthur glances at Ariadne, who’s grinning like a maniac. She hands him Eames’s ring. 

“Eames,” says Arthur, very quietly, so it’s almost just between the two of them, “This ring means forever.” 

Arthur’s eyes, with their complex mixture of darkest browns, are shining with tears as he slips it onto Eames’s left hand. 

“Oh darling, yes,” says Eames. He has to blink. He bites his lip. “Yes!” 

Arthur brushes his thumb across Eames’s ring. “Your turn now, Mr Eames,” he says. 

Eames feels some of the tension lift. 

“Arthur, my love,” he says, “I waited for you because you were worth waiting for. 

“I wanted you for so long, and then you let me in and brought me home and I'm never going to leave. 

“You saw part of me that I'd forgotten and gave it back to me. 

“I want to be with you whatever happens to us, wherever we go, whatever comes next. 

“I want to dream with you. To infinity.” 

He feels Yusuf touch his sleeve and takes Arthur’s ring from him. 

He slips it onto Arthur’s left hand. “Darling,” he says. “Arthur. Be my family.” 

“Oh Eames,” says Arthur, “Yes!” 

“You may kiss … Oh yes, well, go ahead,” says Cobb. 

Eames only hears him vaguely, just like he is only vaguely aware of sniffles and throat clearing behind them. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Their families, gathered around them, mothers wiping their eyes, girls grinning, George beaming. Jim-Bob and Billy hanging back._

“Eames, mate,” says Yusuf, “you could’ve warned a guy I’d need a handkerchief.” He rubs his hand across his face and through his curls. 

“I’d lend you mine ...” says Eames, grinning. He can't seem to stop grinning now. 

Arthur tugs on his hand and he turns to join their parents. Mary and George hug him from either side, Mary drawing Arthur in with her other arm. “Darling,” she says, “that was lovely!” 

“Thank you, Arthur,” she says. “Two sons now, George.” 

“Yes indeed,” says George, clearing his throat again. 

Skippy steps up and wraps Arthur in a hug. “Oh, Artie, sweetheart,” she says. “Come here, Eames.” 

Eames has one arm around Arthur’s waist and the other around Skippy’s shoulders. 

“Our family is even bigger now,” says Skippy. 

“Artie! Eames!” Candy falls on them. “I was crying so hard,” she says. “You guys are so cute!” 

Arthur glances over at Eames and raises an eyebrow, but he smiles at his sister and hugs her. 

Ariadne is standing back, taking pictures. 

Jim-Bob and Honey come over, Ashlee toddling between them. “Congratulations,” says Jim-Bob. “Maybe we should do this too,” he says. 

“Yes!” says Arthur, “Everyone should!” 

Honey glances at Jim-Bob and smiles. 

"You both look so happy!" she says. 

“Right!” says Cobb, “these two need to sign the certificate, so why don't we all go back up to the house for champagne?” He shoos everyone up the path. 

Eames tugs Arthur’s hand to keep him under the pepper tree a moment longer. He runs his other hand up the back of Arthur's neck, into his hair, and Arthur sighs. 

They walk up together, hand in hand, even though it’s awkward. 

Just before they reach the deck, Eames stops and leans into Arthur. He loves their family, but he almost wishes they were all alone. 

 

 _Yusuf, glass raised, head thrown back in laughter._

“Eames, Arthur,” says Yusuf, “guys, I know I'm nobody’s best man, but I want to make a speech anyway. 

“Arthur, you have no idea how Eames used to mope when he was living in Mombasa. That shady casino took so much money off him because he just couldn't pull himself together to come and get you. 

“Cobb, thank god you came to fetch him.” 

Yusuf pauses and clears his throat. They’ve got over what he did on the Fischer job, but it had been more than awkward for a while. Eames is glad they patched it up, because Yusuf had gotten him through a bad time that he’s only alluding to. He raises his glass to Yusuf. 

Eames hopes the dreamsharers remember the fiction they’ve made up for their families. He glances at his parents and wonders how much they’re beginning to suspect. He knows Skippy’s more than a little suspicious, ever since the Memphis thing. 

“Arthur,” says Yusuf, starting again, “I miss him, but I'm glad he’s home with you, it’s good for him. I mean, look at him!” 

Eames blushes, but he can't be embarrassed, Yusuf is only pointing out what has to be blindingly obvious. “Thanks, mate,” he says, getting up to hug Yusuf. “Seriously, thank you,” he says quietly, “you really did look after me back then.” 

Yusuf sits down, and Eames pours him more champagne. Yusuf beams around the table. Eames glances over at Jim-Bob, who has been very quiet so far, sitting at the far end with Honey. He has a considering look. 

Cobb stands up next. “I just have to say to you both, marriage isn't always easy, but if you are lucky, it’s incredible. Just don't get lost. Try to stay there for each other.” His eyes go a little unfocused and he shakes himself. “And, uh, yeah, thank you both for sticking around, it's really meant a lot,” he says. “The kids and I appreciate it." 

Ariadne stands up next, “Eames,” she says, “you’ve been so good to Arthur, but don't think I won't kick your ass if that ever changes!” She sits back down, blushing furiously, and Yusuf pats her arm. 

 

_George and Mary and Skippy and Tabitha, standing up together._

“Mary and I have been talking about you,” says Skippy. Mary nods. “Comparing stories.” 

Arthur blushes and shakes his head, but he’s smiling. He squeezes Eames’s hand. 

“We agreed you were both a bit lonely, as children,” says Mary. “Eames, you had lots of friends and admirers, but without a brother or sister, you were alone a lot of the time.” 

“Arthur, even after the girls came along, you were pretty solitary,” says Skippy. “I think a big family was a bit much for you, sometimes.” 

“So we agreed, we’re very happy you are together now. You’ve made a home for yourselves, and a family, and both our families are bigger,” says Mary. 

“Another son, for both of us,” says Skippy. 

Eames looks over at Arthur. Tears are standing in his eyes and he blinks, hard, before jumping up and going round the table to hug first Mary and then his own mother. Eames follows, hugging Tabitha, who has stood shyly by, but is also smiling. 

“I’m so happy for both of you,” she says quietly to him. “I’ve never known … anyone like you, but I'm so glad Arthur brought you into my life, you know.” 

Tabitha has always been kind and welcoming, but this is the most she’s ever said about the fact that her grandson is with a man. 

“So am I,” says Eames. 

He turns to his father, who is beaming. “Dad,” he says. And then suddenly, finally, he can't say anything else. He just stands there, being hugged by his father, while tears flow. 

“Oh, son,” says George. “I'm so proud of you!. 

 

 _The table littered with plates and glasses, napkins and spoons._

“Goodness, darling,” says Mary, “I don’t think I've had a more delicious meal.” 

The dinner has flowed seamlessly with a succession of small plates, William surprising them all with unexpected tastes. 

Eames is pleased Arthur's family seemed to enjoy it just as much as his more worldly parents. Tabitha especially had exclaimed over the spice-crusted pineapple, something Eames remembers from East Africa. 

Now, everyone has stood up and sat down in different chairs. Jim-Bob has ended up next to Yusuf and is deep in animated discussion. 

Eames catches Arthur’s eye and gets a raised-eyebrow shrug in return. He’ll have to ask Yusuf about it some time. 

Billy is alone, leaning on the deck railing. Eames goes over. 

“Thanks for coming with Candy, Billy,” he says. “Are you having fun?” 

“Sure,” says Billy, “It’s cool.” 

“And Hayes?” says Eames, “How’re things at home?" 

"You don't wanna know," says Billy. 

"Try me," says Eames. He's feeling expansive and something about Billy's truculence tugs at him. 

"Well, you know I was supposed to go to college on a football scholarship? But I got injured and so … now I'm stuck in Hayes. Working for my dad. In his autobody shop. God, I hate paint fumes!" 

"Isn't there a community college or something you could try?" says Eames. "What do you like to do?" 

"I wasn't much good at school, but I did like woodshop," says Billy. "I like to make things." 

"Well, there you go," says Eames. "Is there any way you could try that?" 

"Maybe," says Billy. "My grandpappy has a lot of tools. Maybe he'd let me use them. I never really thought about that." 

He smiles, and Eames can see a glimpse of a happier kid inside the disappointed teenager. He never felt that lost at Billy's age, but later, when he was pining over Arthur, things had seemed pretty bleak at times. 

 

 _Lights flickering in the garden. Arthur holding out a hand._

"I want to dance with you," says Arthur. "Let's make some room!" 

Arthur is a little tipsy. They all are -- Eames has made sure the champagne kept flowing. 

Yusuf helps him and Arthur push the table to one side of the deck. They hadn't really thought about dancing. They don’t go clubbing. Eames can't recall the last time he danced with someone. 

"I better take charge of this," says Ariadne, getting out her phone and sticking it in the Bose dock Arthur has brought out from the living room. 

She scrolls through and hits play. "Romance playlist," she says. 

Arthur holds out his hand. "Dance with me, husband?" he says. 

It's the first time either of them has said that and Eames likes the way it sounds in Arthur's mouth. He sinks into Arthur's arms, his cheek pressed against Arthur's, and they move slowly together. 

There's not much room, but soon Candy and Billy have joined them, then Honey tugs Jim-Bob into the space, leaving a sleepy Ashlee on Tabitha's lap. 

Eames looks up to see Yusuf lean down and whisper to Ari. He bumps his chin on Arthur's shoulder and tilts his head. Arthur looks over and smiles. "They've been circling each other," he whispers. 

The next time Eames looks up, George and Mary are also dancing. Only Skippy and Tabitha are still sitting. Until Cobb goes over and asks Skippy to join him. Arthur giggles. 

The music plays on and they all circle the tiny space carefully. 

"I'm going to ask my Mom," whispers Arthur. 

"Save her from Cobb's two left feet," says Eames, but he goes over and asks his own mother to dance with him. 

"Eames," says Mary, "this has been such a perfect time. You know we really like Arthur's family. Well, Skippy and Tabitha. The kids are a bit harder to get to know. Jim-Bob's a bit of a puzzle, really." 

"He's not that bad," says Eames. "He knows Arthur will kick his arse if he gets out of line." 

"Not just devastating with a spreadsheet, then?" says Mary, with a significant look. "You don't have to tell us exactly, but he's not an accountant, is he?" 

Eames laughs. "No. And I'm not a personal trainer, Father will be glad to learn. I can't say more, though, Mum." 

"Eames," says Mary. "I hope you’re safe. I can see you're happy and that's more important to me." 

“Oh Mum,” says Eames. “I am, _so_ happy. We're so happy.” 


	4. Chapter 4

_Arthur trailing his hand along the hallway wall, under the Arthur pictures. Shirt coming untucked, hair disheveled._

They are alone in the house again. Their families have left. William’s catering crew have cleaned up and gone. 

Arthur turns at the bedroom door to wait for Eames. 

“Eames,” he says, serious. “I loved every single thing about our wedding. I loved planning it for you. I loved doing it with you. I loved hearing those beautiful things you said. I loved telling you how I feel, in front of everyone. I loved dancing with you. I loved laughing with them all. 

“But,” he says, “I'm glad it's over. I’m glad they've gone. I'm glad I get you back to myself now.” 

“Oh my love,” says Eames, “yes. 

“I had the best time, everything was perfect. But, you know, every day is perfect. I have the best time with you every day.” 

“Come here,” says Arthur. Eames is not wearing his jacket or his tie anymore. His sleeves are rolled up. Arthur carefully undoes his shirt buttons, pausing to kiss his throat and then his chest as he goes. He pushes the shirt off his shoulders, running his tongue across the ink there. He lifts Eames’s wrist to his mouth and sucks on the tender, marked skin. 

Eames tries to capture his mouth, but Arthur presses on, relentless. Then he takes off his own trousers, neatly. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed and kisses Eames’s stomach, undoing his belt and opening his trousers. He pushes them down, slipping his hands down the back of his boxers, brushing tenderly across Eames’s ass. 

“Oh, my love,” gasps Eames, steadying himself with his hands on Arthur's shoulders, “Darling, darling, darling,” he sighs. 

Arthur looks up through his lashes. His eyes are heavy. Eames moves a hand to the back of Arthur’s head, pushing his fingers through his hair. He’s not urging, merely holding on. He tilts Arthur’s chin up with his other hand, his thumb sliding along his jaw. Eames nudges Arthur’s knees apart and kneels on the edge of the bed, pushing Arthur onto his back and crawling after him. Arthur shifts backwards, making room. 

“Eames,” he says, “oh Eames.” His breath is ragged. 

Eames undoes Arthur's shirt buttons and cufflinks, and peels it down his arms. Arthur smiles and wriggles out of his briefs, toeing off his socks. 

Eames settles his weight over Arthur, leaning on his elbows, and takes his turn kissing … his husband. 

Soon, Arthur is panting, breathless, arching up under Eames. But he started this, and it's only fair he should dictate. 

"What do you want, my love?" Eames whispers. "Anything, everything. I'm yours. More than I've ever been." 

"God, Eames, god," says Arthur, breath hitching. “Your mouth. I want your mouth.” 

“Mmmmmm,” says Eames, kissing him again and shifting back down the bed, dragging his mouth down Arthur’s chest, kissing and sucking. He tangles his fingers in Arthur’s left hand so he can feel his ring there. Arthur tastes of clean sweat. His cologne has gone stale, but it's a familiar scent that Eames loves. 

“Oh darling,” he sighs, stroking his other hand down Arthur’s side to his hipbone. His palm fits over the sharp jut of it and he holds on. 

Arthur's cock is curved up against his stomach. Eames kisses the head, sinks his mouth down. 

Arthur sighs. “Oh Eames,” he breathes, “Eames, Eames.” 

The hand Eames is not holding comes down, slips along the back of Eames’s neck. Arthur scratches lightly through his hair, tugs gently. Eames huffs sharply through his nose. He can feel how close Arthur is. 

“God, Eames, oh god,” he shouts, and comes, his hand warm and firm at the back of Eames’s head, holding him. Eames rides the wave of Arthur’s orgasm. 

Then he feels Arthur’s hand go slack. He lifts his head and sees Arthur’s eyes have slipped shut. 

“Oh, my love,” says Eames softly, “I could not adore you more.” 

Arthur turns his head as Eames settles at his side. “Eames?” he slurs, “let me …” He gropes for Eames, but his hand can't grip and Eames puts his own hand on himself, over Arthur’s, and strokes and comes quickly, kissing the side of Arthur’s mouth. 

“Darling husband, I'll see you in the morning,” he whispers, reaching for tissues on the nightstand. 

He’s also tired from the whole day, but he lies awake a few minutes more, stroking up and down Arthur’s side, listening to him breathe in the silent house. Their home. 


End file.
